Simpler Times
by icanreadncount
Summary: Drabble of Wilson and his wife. I wrote it as his most recent, but chose whichever one you want her to be. Love is the free exercise of choice. M. Scott Peck.


Simpler Times by icanreadncount

Disclaimer: If I owned House, Chase wouldn't be a jerk and Wilson would get more screen time.

Summary: Drabble of Wilson and his wife. I wrote it as his most recent, but chose whichever one you want her to be. "Love is the free exercise of choice." - M. Scott Peck.

Rating: PG

This is my first House fic, but I've written in other fandoms before. Wilson is my favorite character on the show; he's like, the guy you want to be, the guy you go to if you have a problem, but underneath he's just as confused and amoral as everyone else.

So, without further ado...

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_Love is the free exercise of choice. Two people love each other only when they are quite capable of living without each other but chose to live with each other._

_- M. Scott Peck_

?-_  
_

"My boyfriend wants me to move in with him."

James Wilson looked at Julia, his third wife, as the comment sank in. Years ago, they were made for each other. Now, she came to him as a teenager comes to her father, a seemingly rebellious question to move out with some man he had never met, when really he was 36 and she was 35, and he didn't remember impregnating any women at age one.

"There's no need to rush for a divorce, we're not planning on marrying, but I'm moving out. He's coming to help on Friday."

And today was Monday. In four days, he'd be alone again.

"No, I'll help you." He wasn't sure if it was a nice gesture, just him being himself, or a way to avoid an uncomfortable meeting between a soon-to-be-ex-husband and a new roommate-slash-boyfriend.

"Fine. Friday."

As though she was planning a date. Dinner and a movie, if only they still loved each other. She almost seemed annoyed at his request, and he was pretty sure the boyfriend would show up anyway.

?-

As he lay in bed next to her, James realized that Julia had never lived by herself. Maybe that's why they had lived lying about their love for so long, or maybe it was because she could tailor any clothes to fit his awkward frame. Either way, this decision to leave was inevitable, and James was surprised it hadn't come sooner.

She could be thinking that this would be a way to gain freedom; no more marriage, just a relationship with no contract. But she'd be wrong, because a boyfriend would call it off much sooner than a husband, and then where would she live? If she ever came back to him, asking for a second chance, he'd probably say yes, although it would really be her third or fourth; he couldn't say no to her. Greg would tell him that he was a push-over, but Greg didn't really know much about love either; his own love-life was a warped conflict between two women, one who didn't love him and one who couldn't love him. Whoever he chose to be the one to take his heart would be the wrong answer.

Julia murmured and shifted in her sleep. Once, James thought she was beautiful. Now, the ugliness inside her had spread to the surface. She had wrinkles around her eyes and mouth, odd because he didn't remember her smiling often; she had several blemishes on her face, once she had mentioned visiting a dermatologist, but it had never happened; her feet were big and misshapen and her toes were long and bony. Most people wouldn't be offended by these things, but so many one night stands had made James shallow. When you only want a girl for a little fun who cares what she's like on the inside?

He admitted to himself that he was sad it was over. The marriage was a lie, but one he was used to. No change was good change, but he'd have to deal and move on. He already spent much of his time either at the hospital or Greg's house, now he would spend even less time at his own home than before.

James didn't want to be alone. He was afraid. It had been a long time, and he didn't know if he _could_ deal. If he spent the rest of his life pining over a woman he didn't love, what kind of life would he be living? He wanted to be selfish, he wanted her to stay. It wasn't fair, she was _his_ wife. Now someone was stealing her.

The clock read one AM. He closed his eyes, and tried to sleep. He imagined he'd be doing this for a long time. Not sleeping, not living, just dreaming of simpler times when he was in love and she was in love, and even if it wasn't with each other it was love, and that was enough.

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Thanks for reading! You review me, I review you, even if you leave a flame. 

Becky


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